Phil-o-rum's Canoe, and Madeleine Vercheres: Two Poems

 
the last war-bugle blew.
Ah, little they dreamt on their pillows the
farmers of Vercheres,
That the wolves of the southern forest had
scented the harvest fair.
 
 
Like ravens they quickly gather, like tigers
they watch their prey.
Poor people! with hearts so happy, they sang
as they toiled away!
Till the murderous eyeballs glistened, and the
tomahawk leaped out
And the banks of the green St. Lawrence
echoed the savage shout.
 
 
"O mother of Christ, have pity!" shrieked the
women in despair;
"This is no time for praying," cried the young
Madeleine Vercheres;
"Aux armes! aux armes! les Iroquois! quick
to your arms and guns,
Fight for your God and country, and the lives
of the innocent ones."
 
 
And she sped like a deer of the mountain, when
beagles press close behind,
And the feet that would follow after must be
swift as the prairie wind.
Alas! for the men and women and little ones
that day,
For the road it was long and weary, and the
fort it was far away.
 
 
But the fawn had outstripped the hunters, and
the palisades drew near,
And soon from the inner gateway the war-bugle
rang out clear,
Gallant and clear it sounded, with never a note
of despair-
'T was a soldier of France's challenge, from
the young Madeleine Vercheres!
 
 
"And this is my little garrison, my brothers
Louis and Paul?
With soldiers two, and a cripple? may the
Virgin pray for us all!
But we 've powder and guns in plenty, and
we 'll fight to the latest breath,
And if need be, for God and country, die a
brave soldier's death.
 
 
"Load all the carabines quickly, and whenever
you sight the foe
Fire from the upper turret and loopholes down below,
Keep up the fire, brave soldiers, though the
fight may be fierce and long,
And they 'll think our little garrison is more
than a hundred strong."
 
 
So spake the maiden Madeleine, and she roused